In the Eyes of A Child
by Wanderlustlover
Summary: An odd twist on Jean's mind right after her childhood trauma.
1. Default Chapter

IN THE EYES OF A CHILD  
  
In the beginning God created the heaven and the earth. And the earth was without form and void, and the darkness was upon the face of the deep. And the Spirit of God moved upon those waters. And God said, Let there be light.   
  
And there was light. (Genesis Chapter 1, versus 1-3)  
  
~*~*~  
  
"Once upon a time, in a land not so far away …."  
  
Like a beacon, or an over-head lamp strung high, a stream of light focused down into the oubliette of darkness. And beyond this light there was nothing but the space and the unknown. Simple darkness unfilled, unformed, just simply there, consuming everything beyond that solitary light.   
  
"A village like yours, with people and shops, with children and laughter…."  
  
But it was nothing strange and different that this light did shine upon, but a single person, as many a light do. It was focus on an armchair. Tall backed, and made of a deep brown leather, much like the chair to a man or woman's working office, it seemed to engulf it's occupant, too rigid and too stately for one of such. For it seemed to fit in no way to the one who sat on it.  
  
"There lived a princess."  
  
The inhabitant was a small child. A girl child with fiery red hair, that hung limp to her shoulders. Body curled up in the chair, her knees were pulled to her chest, hands locked together around them in a grip of death. Her face was inclined downward, making the hair shadow her face even in this light. Her face could barely be made out and her eyes hid from sight, as many things hid from the darkness. For to be seen was to be taken.   
  
"And she was very, very happy. For a time…"  
  
She wore a simple play time outfit of shorts and a shirt. And while they were dusted by dirt, and tattered one or two places with love, the shirt still had stripes and the pants were still a brown, even at faded. There were stains here and there on that yellow and brown striped shirt. The clothes looked well worn. In fact, they looked like they could have used a good cleaning. As did the child.  
  
"And then it was all taken away from her."  
  
There were stains here and there all over her. A smug along her nose, that looked like it might have gone to a cheek, but the shadows took that view away. Dirt scuffed along a pant leg, a long stain dark brown -or was it red?- along one of her arms from her hand.  
  
  
  
"Everything was taken from her. The people, the shops, the laughter. Her happiness."   
  
She shifted in her seat, barely, but enough to move some of the shadows, and enough to make a noise. A sniffle that took longer than a few seconds. Perhaps it was two. The girl buried her face in her knees, her hair like a blanket around them at that close proximity, till she moved to write herself again. She raised a hand to wipe her face. Or perhaps tear?  
  
"In less than two minutes the world would change her life forever. It didn't even care. Not Before. Not after."  
  
But no. There was not a drop of salt water on the hand when it came back from rubbing the nose and cheek, smearing the dirt a little better into the pale white skin. But of course. Little Girls don't cry. Little Girls are made of sugar and spice and everything nice. Of rainbows and daisy chain. Of laughter, squeals of joy and smiles. But never tears.   
  
"So they found a way to drive her insane, that she couldn't fight."  
  
A whirling noise, that seemed to echo on and on, sounded and the girl through her head back against the chair back. Her face became visible, pale skin, dirt mark and all. Her face was light as petals, though it seemed dusted with the smallest freckles and lightest sun kisses across her nose, that come to children who play in the sun so long.   
  
"Helpless to fight them they locked her up in the one place she could never escape."  
  
Her eyes were the draw back though. A blue like the sky, so uncanny, and frank usually. This time they seemed cold, and dark as a deep lake. They were without emotion, feeling, or care. Like twin mirrors empty and waiting, piercing the darkens with her cold hard stare. She would have no interruption. She had shut it all down and placed it all away and out on purpose.   
  
"Jeanie-Bean…"  
  
This voice was different. It was slightly annoyed, and sharp, but more than anything it sounded tired. The light seemed to form around a person walking out of the darkness. She was small, with dirty brown hair that hung loose, and wild as if she come from playing outside. And in her hands she carried the one thing, that made the fiery haired girl gasp.  
  
"Don't you think it's time you stopped living in your head with the fairy tales?"  
  
A red Frisbee. 


	2. Chapter 2

Regaining composure her face neither remained completely straight, nor did it remain icy or blank. It was not though at the same time very expressive. Cloudy eyes became clearer but confused, thin eyebrows raised slightly, and mouth became lightly slackened.   
  
"Why are you here?"  
  
The other face child's turned slightly whimsy, as she played with the Frisbee between her fingers. It spun around and around as the dirty blonde pressed her lips together a second, that could have lasted longer caught in the moment, but a moment later was split by precious sarcastic smirk.   
  
"Because."  
  
Jean green eyes narrowed a slight bit more on the girl before her. She looked the same. The exact same as that very exact day. Blue jeans and a bright red t-shirt. So bright a color. Why wouldn't he have seen? They were loved, and roughed houses in, both evident by the wear at the knees, and the dirt ground on them. Her hair was pulled back in a pony tail, her bangs fluttering close enough to touch her eyelashes, but somehow staying on her forehead.   
  
"I-" the girl seemed to hesitate, as she stopped twirling the Frisbee. The peeling stickers on it, sparkled even in the darkness, making her unwary of it. "To see why you were still here."  
  
"You're dead, Annie." She said harshly still looking from her to the Frisbee. She'd bought the stickers herself with an allowance long time ago. They had started to peel off months ago, but somehow the girls had always made them stay on.  
  
"And?"   
  
"And?" Jean's eyes went wide, and she actually moved in her chair. Her legs slid to a sitting position, and she used her arms to push her foreword, so that she was leaning out, looking at her life long friend defiantly. "And? And shouldn't you be in heaven or some place like that?"  
  
"Suppose so," the other girl replied with a slight shuffle of her tennis shoes, as she looked around the area. She didn't seem to have any answers she was giving out. Perhaps, she didn't know any then. "This sure is a lovely place you've got, Jeanie. What's with the darkness and the buzzing noise?"  
  
Turning to look out into the darkness the small girl in the chairs face turn apprehensive. Out there. Out there was the overwhelming darkness and faint buzzing, that threatened every minute to get louder and louder and louder till it was deafening. All those voices over lapping, crossing, doubling up until there wasn't a voice just this manic humming sound of chaos that tortured her with sound and thought, to the point where she couldn't think herself.   
  
"I don't know." She answer uncertainly, as if to say that she had half an answer but no understanding of it at all. "I just know if I stay -right here- it can't get me."  
  
"No that this place lacks in umm, looks, but, just to ask: What about your parents? What about school?"  
  
"Haven't gone to school for months, Annie." She said as she turned her face back to her best friend, who she'd thought she'd lost forever. It was odd, and yet comforting to have her right here. Leaning back in the chair, Jean sighed faintly, with an expression that made her look as I f she were sulking she looked up at where the light came from, not knowing where it did really.   
  
"Right now Mom's putting my purple sweater on me -you know, the one I hate?- and she talking about the fact that I have an appointment with someone in an hour. I've already seen ten therapist, twelve specialist, and eight doctors, but still she keeps taking me to these people." Jean pursed her lips, feel her eyes start to sting. She wasn't going to cry. She wasn't going to say it was unfair. She wasn't going to do anything she did earlier on. "No one can help me, Annie. I'm just going to be stuck here for the rest of my life."  
  
"That doesn't sound like you." The other girl came walking closer to her in the light now. She let the Frisbee drop beside her on the floor. Discarded like it was an old toy, simply forgotten. "What happened to the brave best friend I had? Jelly Bean?"  
  
Jean moved over at Annie's touch, and let her climb up into the chair by her. She shook her head, looking at Annie. It was an expression that tried to be defiant and easy, but relayed a simple fact. Jean Grey was a child. A small girl child, with no idea what was happening to her. Someone who had first lost something most precious, a friend, and then something even more precious, herself, and was simply scared out of their mind.   
  
That came with the small tears that started to form in her eyes. But this time she didn't simply stop. Even though it was a touch awkward when Annie pulled her close she just let herself cry. It was Annie after all. Annie who convinced her to stick eight pieces of gum in her mouth and chew them. Annie who dared her to jump off the bridge into the creek first, since she had been scared. Annie who spent the night often, and sometimes they got to make pancakes in the morning.  
  
Annie…who best of all….had been her, one and only, best friend.   
  
With sniffles, and a rubbing of a nose it stopped after a while, though how long and when, they had no idea. There was no time or place here. Just simple being of that moment it seemed, though neither had time to think of that yet. They were just being two girls; together, for the first time what seemed like eternity.   
  
"I imagined you'd have white wings and a golden halo by now," Jean said after sniffle, and rubbing her left eye with her right hand since she was curled up against her.   
  
"Me? A golden halo? After all the stuff I've done?" She tried to sound like she was joking, except it didn't come out so much a joke anymore. It seemed to be empty words this time, where she reached her limit or what went where.   
  
"I don't know, really. I sorta remember that day. Well, sorta. It's all blurry for me. I know I'm…" but the sentence wasn't finished. They both knew that part.  
  
Jean thought vacantly that was good. Annie shouldn't have to remember that. Even if she remembered it crystalline clear. Everything. The squealing of the tires, the screaming, the pain, and the sudden snap where everything went weird.   
  
"I don't remember anything magical or white or any kind of light, except maybe that one," she said pointing up above them. "But I don't think that's what they were talking about. All I remember is seeing this light and hearing you talking about the fairy princess. And- yes, and that it's cold out there where it's dark."  
  
Jean looked up at Annie, who's face was above her since she still was leaning on her friend. "You- you've been here all this time?"  
  
"I don't know. Don't remember if I haven't." Annie shrugged a little off placed herself now. Moving upward, Jean put her arm around Annie's back since hers was around her shoulders, and they both leaned against each other as she finally did respond.   
  
"But I'm here now. That's what's most important, right?"  
  
Jean nodded slowly, her small wary seeming to vanish. "Mmhmm."  
  
And maybe it was at this second that it happened. That the darkness became a little bit thinner, or perhaps it was the light that became a little bit brighter around the two. But they didn't realize this, and neither did they realize that a shadow had fallen inside this small cone of light from the heavens above the darkness that surrounded.   
  
Forged by one small object on the ground.   
  
A red Frisbee. 


End file.
